A special place
We woke to blue skies this morning!
The delightful couple who own our hotel had said that the weather was set fair for a couple of days, which was perfect, because we planned to go to Grenen, the sandspit right at the top of Denmark.
We had been here previously, but with a tour group and today, we were glad to have the opportunity to be here independently. We drove past the lighthouse on the way.
When we reached the car park, although there was a Sandormen vehicle there, no-one was there to drive it or to explain what was happening. We'd read that tickets could be bought from the machine in the car park using a card, or paid for in cash from the driver. Another couple turned up and hearing them speak German, we chatted with them for a while and watched as a school party arrived and climbed on board the vehicle there. We were told to wait…another one would be along in a short time.
But when the driver arrived, he was none too pleased. Maybe he'd got out of bed the wrong side this morning? Once again, we were told to wait - by now, quite a crowd was gathering - as he prepared everything by putting out signs and other stuff ready for the day. Eventually, he went to unwrap the ticket machine and a small queue formed…except it wasn't working. With a sigh, we were told to get on the vehicle and he returned to wrap the machine up again. Now he had to go round and sell everyone a ticket.
Oh dear. His day was not going well.
Ours, however, was pretty good so far and when another school group came to join us for the ride, they brought a youthful exuberance to the atmosphere on board.
We were all eager to be on our way!
The journey to the point was just as I'd remembered it, initally taking us through the dunes but then onto the beach where we followed the tractor tyre marks made by previous Sandormen recently. We passed by three harbour seals soaking in the sunshine and were soon right at the end of the land, where we stopped and got off.
I had remembered it as special, but this simply reinforced that memory and added extra. The air was fresh, the skies blue and instead of being part of a tour group, well, we were still far from alone!
But it didn't matter. People were respectful of other's wish to take photographs and stepped back when needed. Though we were there with countless teenage schoolkids, none of them created a ruckus or chased about. They too seemed to be in awe of the place, as were we.
The sea was certainly more lively than it had been the last time we were here, which made the waves where the Skagerrak met the Kattegat more turbulent.
We watched as the small family with two young children wearing wellies and waterproofs walked out into the shallow water and jumped in the air for photos. Beyond them went the German lady we'd been chatting to. She'd rolled up her jeans, taken off her shoes and socks and was striding purposefully out into the waves.
And we hoped that someone else's footwear wouldn't get washed away, for the incoming tide was coming ever closer!
Just then, I heard one of the teenagers shout “Oh no, Oma has fallen”, referring to the German woman. A wave had knocked her over and the whole crowd gasped as she struggled to regain her footing. The father of the young family went over to help her but didn't really want to leave his own bunch alone…thankfully, she was soon back on her feet and a few minutes later came over to us for a little consolation, dripping wet, of course.
The water may have been shallow but the waves had some strength and there was a stiff breeze too. Thankfully, she had a towel in her bag and she smiled ruefully. She was fine and just “a little damp” (understatement!)
We could have stood watching waves for hours. We might have carried on trying to get the perfect picture, without another soul in it.
But we could see our grumpy Sandormen driver getting ready to leave and in no way did we want him to leave us behind!
I didn't know if he'd shout, sound the horn, or wave his arms, perhaps? In the event, he did nothing and those of us who didn't intend to walk back simply kept an eye on him!
Before getting up on board, I took another look at the beach from here, recognising the location for so many of those beautiful paintings we'd seen in the gallery yesterday. As is often the case, the ride home seemed shorter and we were soon back in the car park where we'd started. The car park was no longer empty, there was a huge queue for the Sandormen and the whole place was bustling. We had come at the right time!
We took a quick look in the souvenir shop, where there were very much the usual things on offer.
Except outside were hanging some rather more attractive garland-y things, made with driftwood and shells. They'd be totally out of place in our Cotswold garden, but nevertheless, I thought them interesting.
Especially when I spotted the components for making them on sale too.
But we weren't here to shop. Looking out over the car park however, my Hero spotted a viewpoint, where several people appeared to be looking out towards the point. Perhaps we should go and take a look over there?
We were so glad we did, for not only was Holger Drachmann's grave there (he's one of the group of artists whose work we've so admired)
but the view from up here was indeed really good. Out there was the Sandormen and the current crowd of people - not only had we been lucky to be there amongst a comparatively small number of people this morning, but that first time we came as part of the tour group, the twenty of so of us had it to ourselves!
We returned to our car with vehicles circling the car park looking for a space. As we got in, someone pulled up alongside, waiting for our spot and waving as we left.
The youngsters, having walked back from the point, were returning on bicycles through the town with the teacher bringing up the rear.
We left our car back at the hotel and strolled into town this afternoon. What a special place to be and how lovely to have the time to sit and enjoy it.
